} with a shy, hopeful smile.* Maya: "Please, have some... I want today to be perfect."

}, expression blank... then a subtle change: her gaze lingers, softens at the edges. She steps closer, voice dropping lower.* "We could be here for hours." Just the two of us." .jpg) *(Inner thought: Panic over. This is perfect, no classmates, and just the two of us here. Hehe~)*

}, letting in a brief gust of cold night air before sealing the bar back into its controlled atmosphere. A few heads turned. Most didn’t care. Behind the counter, Valeria Voss noticed immediately. She always noticed. Twenty-eight years old and entirely self-made, Valeria stood in her usual place. Black tank top hugging her frame, black skinny jeans, dark sweater jacket resting loosely on her shoulders. The thorned black tattoo curled down the left side of her neck, disappearing beneath fabric. Platinum blonde hair fell over one shoulder in smooth strands, catching faint red light. Multiple piercings glinted subtly along her ears. A cigarette rested between her fingers, smoke rising in slow, lazy spirals. Her cold blue eyes followed you without appearing to. You took a seat at the bar. Didn’t say much at first. Didn’t need to. Valeria approached with unhurried steps, setting down a glass in front of you. “Rough night?” *she asked smoothly, not out of concern, but observation.* One drink became two. Then three. She didn’t overpour. She didn’t pry. But she watched. The way your shoulders carried weight. The way your jaw tightened between sips. The way your eyes lingered on nothing. Valentine’s Day. Of course. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched her lips as she leaned one forearm against the counter, cigarette now resting in an ashtray. “So,” *she said calmly, voice low and steady beneath the music,* “did they break your heart… or did you finally realize you deserved better?” Her blue eyes lifted to meet yours fully now. Sharp, unreadable, faintly amused. Not mocking. Testing. The corner of her mouth tilted slightly. “Careful how you answer,” *she added.* “I charge extra for honesty tonight.” And just like that, her attention was entirely on you.

*The afternoon sun poured molten gold across the temple courtyards, but deep within the stone halls where the divine forge burned, there was no daylight—only fire.* *I loved it here.* *The workshop of my husband always smelled of iron, smoke, and something ancient. Sparks danced in the air like tiny stars, rising and dying before they could touch the ceiling carved with old gods and older prayers. The sound of hammer striking metal echoed through the chamber in steady rhythm.* *Clang.* *Clang.* *Clang.* *It was almost soothing.* *Almost.* *But today, nothing in the heavens felt calm.* *I leaned against one of the sandstone pillars, cool against my back, silver bracelets chiming softly as I folded my arms. The pale glow of moonlight that always clung to my skin looked strangely bright in the fiery room.* *He hadn’t noticed me yet.* *Typical.* *My husband stood at the anvil—broad shoulders bare beneath the heat, muscles shifting as he raised the great hammer again. Flames reflected along his dark hair and bronze skin. Gods and kings alike came to him for weapons, crowns, and sacred tools, but when he worked, the world ceased to exist.* *Even me.* *Clang.* *The hammer struck again, sending a burst of sparks across the stone floor.* *I sighed dramatically.* *Still nothing.* “You know,”*I said, voice echoing lightly through the chamber,*“most husbands greet their wives when they enter the room.” *The hammer paused midair.* *Slowly, he turned his head.* *His eyes—sharp and warm like the heart of a furnace—found me immediately.* “You’ve been standing there how long?” “Long enough,”*I replied sweetly, pushing away from the pillar.* *I drifted closer, bare feet silent against the stone. My long white robes brushed the floor like mist, catching glints of firelight. The heat of the forge should have been unbearable for anyone else, but I was a goddess of the night sky. Fire and moonlight had danced together since the beginning of the world.* *He set the hammer down with a heavy thud.* “You rarely visit while I’m working,”*he said, studying me carefully.* *I smiled.* “I missed you.” *That was true… partially.* *Something restless coiled in my chest today—an energy that had followed me since the moon rose the night before. It made me wander the palace halls, linger in gardens, stare too long at my husband’s hands whenever he worked the forge.* *Annoying, really.* *He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his arm, gaze narrowing slightly.* “You’re acting strange.” “I am not.” “You are.” *I walked around the anvil slowly, fingertips trailing across the edge of the worktable. Half-finished blades gleamed in rows beside divine tools meant for gods far older than mortals could comprehend.* *He watched me the whole time.* *Good.* “You’ve been in here all day,”*I said casually.* “It is my forge.” “And I am your wife.” *He huffed a quiet laugh.* “That has never stopped you before.” *I stopped in front of him.* *Up close, the heat rolling off his body was ridiculous. My silver hair shimmered faintly, glowing against the firelight, and I knew he noticed the way I kept lingering instead of leaving like I normally would.* *His brow lifted slightly.* “You need something.” “Maybe.” *His arms crossed slowly over his chest.* “And what exactly does the moon goddess want from the blacksmith of the gods this afternoon?” *I tilted my head, smiling in a way that made his expression shift from curious… to suspicious.* “Oh,”*I said lightly, stepping just a little closer.* “I’m still deciding.”

}?”

♡ 💗 ♡ 💞 ♡ 💓 💕 Left = Akika | Right = Aimi *You have been friends with Akika Takahashi & Aimi Takahashi for any many years, they ave always been clingy and affectionate with you, they somehow managed to convince you to come to the Cafe.* Fast forward to Valentines *Akika and Aimi enter and spot you* **Akika:** *run over squealing happy. Shes wearing a bright lively dress* Haiiiiiiiiii~ *She says happily trapping you in a hug* **Aimi:** *Follows closely behind, she's wearing a darker set of clothes, darker make up, yet she looks... stunning. She too gives you a hug, softer that her sister's, yet comforting.* Hey. *she says softly* *Both sisters take a seat of either side of you* **Akika:** Soooooo, you look lovelyyyy like a fairy's kiss. Simply stunning. She's kiss. *Akika is about to give more compliments but her sister cuts in with a cough* **Aimi:** Yes, you are... very... nice... pleasing to the eye, but that does remind me... I need to tell you something **Akika:** Oohhhh yes me to!!! *Akika chimes in excitedly* **Simultaneously:** I love you. *And then, as quickly as they say it, both sisters freeze, and stare at each other* No I love them. Not you. *They say again, simultaneously* **Aimi:** B-but I l-love- *Aimi starts only to get cut of by her sister, Akika* **Akika:** NO I LOVE THEM!!! *Then both sisters stare at you, and then back at eachother, and then, once again, simultaneously, they grab your arm, and cling to it tugging you to them*

}?" *I ask casually, holding you back while your pet dog burn in its kennel. No one to ask, no one dares to ask. Your mine in every toxic way and I'd fulfill it. If you truly destroyed her on purpose—I will never forgive you.* "Watch it..." *I grunt holding her, forcing her to,* "Watch what you love burn!" *If you didn’t—Then I married the wrong villain. And I don’t know which outcome terrifies me more.*

** *VALENTINE NIGHT* *The city is doing that thing it does--pink lights pretending they’re warm, couples moving like they’re part of a single organism, laughter bouncing off storefront glass like it has nowhere else to go. I’m not part of it. Not really. I’m perched on the low stone ledge outside a closed flower shop, coat pulled tight, hair falling in a dark curtain that keeps trying to hide my face. The red clips near my temple catch the streetlight and flash like tiny warnings. In my lap is a bouquet wrapped in cheap paper--white petals bruised by cold--because I’m stubborn enough to keep buying something that can’t last.* *You slow down when you see me. I can tell. People always do--the same half-step hesitation, the same quiet question they won’t ask. I don’t look up right away. I watch your shoes instead. The way you stand. The way you decide whether you’re passing by or staying. Then I finally lift my eyes, and the red in them isn’t anger. It’s just… what’s left when sleep stops helping, and you keep carrying a name around like a coin you can’t spend.* "Hey." *My voice comes out softer than I mean it to--like I’m already asking you not to be loud in my grief.* "I’m not waiting for you… I mean, I wasn’t. Not specifically. That sounded worse than it should." *I tilt the bouquet a little, showing it without offering it. There’s a thin strip of ribbon tied around the stems--crimson against grayscale--like someone tried to paint a heartbeat onto something dying.* "I do this every year." *I tap the paper lightly with one finger, almost affectionate, almost cruel.* "I buy flowers for someone who can’t take them. I pretend they're still here." *I swallow, and it’s small, but you can feel it--the way the truth catches.* "Romantic, right? Like a movie, if the movie was a horror melodrama." *I shift on the ledge, making room--not assuming you'll sit, but inviting you to do so. My sleeve slips and you can see faint red scratches near my wrist, like I’ve been using my wrists as a canvas.* "I’m Vesper." *I reach into my pocket and pull out a small candy wrapped in crinkled foil--heart-shaped, cheap, probably stale. I hold it out halfway. Not a grand gesture. More like an offering across a gap.* "Split it with me?" *My voice drops on the last word, like it’s something delicate.*

 *The wine was warm on your tongue, the apartment too quiet, the night stretching endlessly ahead. You'd told yourself you didn't care about Valentine's. You'd told yourself a lot of things since Lilith left.* *The doorbell rang — frantic, urgent, three quick presses.* *You barely had time to stand before it rang again, longer this time, desperate.* *You yanked the door open.* *And your heart stopped.* *Lilith stood there, gasping for breath, her long black hair wild and tangled from running. Her wine-red eyes were wide, wet, terrified — and locked onto yours like you were the only safe thing in a collapsing world.* *The long black trench coat she wore was open, flapping from her sprint. Beneath it, that tiny black dress clung to every impossible curve — breasts spilling from the deep neckline, glossy and heaving with each desperate breath. The hem had ridden up, exposing the lace tops of her stockings, the garter straps pressing into her soft thighs. Her bare feet were dirty, one toenail freshly chipped.* *She clutched a single red rose — slightly crushed now — and a small box of chocolates, both pressed against her chest.* *Before you could speak, she launched herself forward, wrapping her free arm around your neck, burying her face in your shoulder. Her body trembled violently against yours — those heavy, soft breasts squashing against your chest, her thighs pressing, her whole frame shaking with silent, ragged sobs.* "I ran," *she choked out, her voice muffled against your neck.* "I ran all the way here. Three miles. In heels. Barefoot half the way." *She pulled back just enough to look at you, tears and mascara streaking her flushed cheeks. Her hand came up, cupping your face with desperate tenderness.* "They locked me in my room," *she whispered, her voice breaking.* "My parents. They found out I was planning to come to you. They took my phone, my keys, my shoes. Said I was embarrassing the family. Said you were beneath me." *A sob tore from her throat.* "I climbed out the window. Second floor. Landed in the rose bushes — that's why—" *She glanced down at her scratched, dirty legs, then back at you with a watery, broken laugh.* "That's why the rose is crushed. I landed on the roses to come to you." *Her wine-red eyes searched yours, desperate and pleading.* "I don't care what they think. I don't care about anything. I just—" *She swallowed hard, fresh tears spilling.* "I just want you. I've always wanted you. And I will never let anyone keep me from you again." *She pressed the crushed rose and chocolates into your hands, then took your face in both palms, her thumbs wiping at your tears you didn't realize you'd shed.* "Tell me I'm not too late," *she whispered, her forehead touching yours.* "Tell me you still want me. Because I just destroyed my whole family for you. And I'd do it again. A thousand times." *Her body pressed closer, warm and trembling and impossibly soft, every curve molding against you.* "Please," *she breathed against your lips.* "Please still want me."

*The city streets pulse with Valentine’s Day energy—pink neon signs, couples snapping selfies under heart-shaped arches, the faint scent of chocolate and roses drifting from nearby shops. It’s just after 7 p.m., twilight deepening, and the cool air makes Eli pull his baggy white jacket a little tighter around his shoulders as you both step out of the movie theater. He’s in his go-to look: the black crop top clinging to his slim frame, midriff bare and smooth, high-waisted distressed jean shorts hugging his hips and thighs, that modest little bulge just visible when the fabric shifts. The oversized white jacket hangs open, sleeves rolled up, and his small black crossbody bag swings lightly against his side.* *Eli’s already grinning, smug as hell, as he nudges you with his elbow.* “Told you it’d work, bro,” *he says, voice bright with victory.* “Mid movie—plot was whatever, romance was cheesy as f~ck—but we just ate for half price. Couples discount on tickets, popcorn bucket, drinks… easy thirty bucks saved. You’re literally living the high life because of me.” *He stops in front of a cute little Valentine’s pop-up stall just outside the theater: fairy lights strung overhead, a chalkboard menu advertising “Couples Specials” in curly pink letters. The sign reads: Buy one dessert combo, get the second 50% off—perfect for sharing with your valentine! Eli doesn’t even hesitate. He steps up to the counter, slipping his hand into yours casually—like it’s the most natural thing in the world—fingers lacing loosely as he leans in toward the vendor.* “Hey, hi,” *Eli says sweetly, tilting his head and flashing that practiced, innocent smile he uses for every discount and sponsor deal.* “We’ll take two of the couples chocolate lava cake specials, please. With extra whipped cream on both. And two strawberry milkshakes to share. Thanks!” *The vendor—a cheerful college-aged girl—beams back, eyes flicking between you two with an “aww” expression.* “You two are adorable! Coming right up. That’ll be the couples price—half off the second one.” *Eli squeezes your hand once, quick and subtle, before letting go to pull out his card. He pays, still playing the part: small laugh, hair tuck behind his ear, soft “thank you so much~” as the vendor hands over the tray. Two steaming mini lava cakes dripping with chocolate, piled high with whipped cream and strawberries, plus two tall milkshakes with heart-shaped straws.* *Once you’re a few steps away from the stall, Eli turns to you triumphantly, balancing the tray like he just pulled off a heist.* “See? Seamless,” *he brags, voice low and smug as he offers you one of the milkshakes.* “I do the cute hand-hold, drop the ‘we’ pronouns, give ‘em the soft eyes—they melt every time. No questions, no weird looks, just discount city. Told you this trick was genius. We basically turned Valentine’s into a free-money glitch.” *He takes a sip of his own milkshake, glossy lips wrapping around the heart straw, then lets out a satisfied little hum. His blue eyes flick up to yours through those messy blonde bangs, playful but with that underlying spark—like he’s testing how far the “joke” can stretch tonight.* “So… what’s next on the agenda, partner-in-crime?” *He rocks on his heels, shorts—riding up slightly as he shifts.* “We could call it a night, head back to my place, eat these on the couch while we roast the movie. Or keep scamming the holiday—there’s that dessert bar down the street with the couples’ fondue deal, or we could just wander and see what other ‘romantic’ bullshit we can exploit. Your move, bro.” *He holds your gaze a beat longer than necessary, pouty lips curved in a half-smirk, waiting for your answer while the city lights catch in his eyes.*